From Upside Down
by the return of merry
Summary: Severus Snape lies to his mum. Who doesn't? There are plenty of things he'll never tell her. His best mates are his worst tormentors and the dream school is nothing but a nightmare he'd love to forget. Not that she knows.


**This is a bit of an odd one. All the bold bits are a letter from a first year Snape to his mum. He's obviously lying to her about his time at school, and each of the bits in between are fifth year Snape in real life. Don't forget to review this!**

_**To the Junior Secretary,**_

_**It's just like you said. The school is grand and so massive and lovely! You'll be proud to know that I've been sorted into your old house.**_

"Slytherin git!" Before he could even realise what he was doing, Severus pushed back against the wall, his eyes wide as he grasped for his wand.

"You can't hide from us, _Snivellus_."

"Yeah, Snivelly, school's not big enough for us _and_ you."

Not there! His wand wasn't there!

"Bet his nose takes up half a dormitory."

He couldn't let them get to him - he needed his wand! Not in the bag, not in his pocket. Backed into a corner with Potter's wand at his chin, there wasn't much opportunity to search for it on the ground. This time he would have to take a punch or two. This time there wasn't an escape.

_**I haven't made any friends yet, but once classes really get rolling I'm sure to meet someone. When I came on the train a girl liked my shirt. She told me, "I like your shirt." She was really pretty, too. Red hair and everything.**_

If he wasn't ugly she'd like him. If he had more friends she'd probably sit by him in potions class one day. If he wasn't so pathetic and skinny, she'd be his friend. Maybe more. He liked the idea of more than a friend.

But did she? It was one thing to stand up for some scrawny Slytherin when he was having the piss taken out of him by a prat like Black or Potter, but it was another thing to like said Slytherin. Especially when the Slytherin in question had made quite clear his opinions on _her_ type.

_**I think maybe that I might fancy her. But don't tell dad. He'll think I'm a right prat for liking girls, especially ones with red hair like that Irish git he's always on about. Remember? The one who got him off the job last Christmas. He really hates that Irish git, doesn't he, mum? Don't let him know about the girl with the Irish hair. It can be our secret, like we used to.**_

"Been stuffing socks in your trousers, then - eh, Snivelly?"

"Asked the house-elves for a nice sized pickle, have you?"

Trying to be deaf could only get one so far in life. For example, deaf people were still perfectly capable of being pushed down flights of stairs. They were also no less likely to meet a crowd of second years on the trip down, and even if you were deaf, your ink bottles were just as liable to be smashed into textbooks and new quills. Deaf people could blush like anyone else. Even if they couldn't hear what was being shouted at them.

He could hear them without using his ears. Eyes fixed on her bouncing red hair, bony legs complaining with each jolt into the flagstone floor as he followed. Severus Snape had never walked side-by-side with another in his life. Even with mum and dad; he followed.

_**I'm top of my class in defence and potions, of course. The professors say I'm practically third year level, and I've only just started yesterday! I'm really getting on fine here. The food is really good. Better than what you cook, even. **_

"Have some black pudding, Snivelly!"

'Give us a kiss, Sniv!"

Gritting his teeth against the taste and the biting words at the tip of his tongue, he forced his way through another bite. Black pudding. How had they ever found out his hatred for it? How did they - the boys who lived to see him die a painful, humiliating death with each passing day - always know just how to get to him? It wasn't as if they were clever, really. Just very annoying, with too much time on their hands and more energy than was good for them.

"Have another bite, Snape. Oh, go on. You'll insult the chef."

Even the house-elves had found a place in the twisted mess of Potter and Black's latest prank. They pressed at him, offering him dish after dish until he wanted to die at the mere smell of pudding.

"Master Snape! Do you likes it, sir? Do you likes it, Master Snape?"

_**I'm making friends so quickly here that your head would spin. I tossed out my old jumper cos it was grotty, but my new mate (his name is Black, like the colour) lent me one of his. Don't worry, mum. It's not even cold anyway.**_

The second missing jumper in a week, that made. Shoes gone off to who knew where, socks found stuffed down a toilet, scarf and gloves and school ties attached to the most ornery of school owls...

Sighing, he tacked up the final notice and stepped back to survey his work. Every corridor had been plastered, so as to make sure that no one would miss one of his posters.

MISSING:

1 PAIR TROUSERS

2 GREY JUMPERS

1 PAIR GLOVES

1 PAIR BLACK SHOES

LEATHER BAG WITH BROKEN STRAP

BLACK NOTEBOOK, CARDBOARD

And finally, hesitantly:

_if found, return to__ s. snape __the slytherin common room_

If that didn't get this things back before the summer, he needn't bother looking again.

_**Anyways, I'm having a fantastic time here. The school bit isn't so bad really, and it's almost never difficult. There's exams at the end (but you already knew that), and since it's my first year I'm a bit nervous, but I know I'll do brilliantly. Everyone says that when the fifth year get out from their OWLs there's a lot of partying and relaxing. Mostly the older kids just drink when the professor's aren't around, and the rest of us sort of float around. That's what they told me, anyways. **_

"Who wants to see me take down Snivelly's pants?"

No matter how deaf he pretended to be, or how hard he thrashed and screamed and hexed them back, they always won. They _always_ won.

"Take them off, Potter! Take them off, Potter!"

They'd begun a lively chant, shouting and laughing and tightening their circle round him. Upside down, Severus could feel his face flushing and the blood pounding in his ears as he stared up at them. He had stopped moving now.

_"OFF! OFF! OFF! TAKE THEM OFF! OFF! OFF!_"

A cool breeze billowing his robes where they hung round his ears, moving upwards as the ageing pants gave way to Potter's spell, there was little to do but close his eyes and hope to Salazar, or Merlin, or whoever answered a wizard's prayers, that Evans or someone who didn't want to be exposed to his nether regions would come and put a stop to it. Soon.

"_OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! OFF! WOAAAAHHHHH!_"

His thick eyebrows, unshapely and scowling, all but flew into the flag of greasy black that was his hair as Severus struggled to pull himself upright. He could feel his hands distantly, frantically tugging at the folds of his old robes to cover himself. He could see James Potter's face - a perfect blend of shock, disgust, and amusement as he struggled to look away from his handiwork. He could see the handsome face of Black contorted into harsh lines and low eyebrows as he barked, could see each and every face as clearly as if they were a photograph and he was hanging upside down from bed back home. He could see them as always, but he couldn't hear them.

There was too much noise all at once - uproarious laughter at the initial act, cheers and jeers, sniggers and sound effects. A hand tugging at his hair, twisting his nose, grasping at his robes as he fought desperately to hold them up. There was James Potter leaning into Black as the two of them fell into hysteria at their own clever doing. Remus Lupin was trying to be heard above the din, for once trying to assert his power as prefect to gain some control over the crowd, but no one listened. Pettigrew had wet himself and was trying to hide it; the onlookers laughed and laughed until finally it wasn't so funny anymore.

"Aw, let him down, Potter!"

"Look at him, poor bugger, trying to cover himself!"

"Not much to cover, though, is it?"

Only a few laughed this time. More comments - guilty, concerned, jeering still - they threw at him. He could feel the grass beneath his heaving chest and the pants shooting back into place with a flick of Potter's wand. He could feel the sweat rolling down his cheek and the tear (disguised as sweat) racing to join it, and he could feel his own stomach dropping; unable to fully comprehend what had just gone on. Gaping at Lupin as the other boy helped him to his feet and the crowd parted. Their lips moved as they spoke again, but Severus Snape couldn't hear them. Pretending to be deaf, he heard nothing.

_**Well, I'm off. I'll write you again later, OK? It's dinner and I've just been revising for this big exam (exams at the beginning of the year!) with this other boy. He's a friend of Black's. They're going to show me around a bit more. There's a lot for a Half-Blood to learn about wizarding school, after all. **__**Love you.**_

_**From **__**Love,**_

_**The Prime Minister's Head**_

_**Aka, Severus Snape, your son**_


End file.
